


Reign of the Robins

by Sparky_Time



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bruce is trying, Damian is petty, Damian knows, Damian refuses to tell people his name, Dick is insecure, Dick is overprotective, Everyone is robin, Jason likes chili dogs, Jason wants to know why Tim keeps staring at him, Nightmares, Tim discovers the wonders of coffee for the first time, Tim has abandonment issues, Tim is a nervous wreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:17:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparky_Time/pseuds/Sparky_Time
Summary: “Grayson!” The door slid open once again, and in waltzed Violent Robin. (He’d yet to tell anyone his real name, even though he seemed to know everyone else’s.)“Nightmare?” Dick questioned.“Tt, no,” Violent Robin furrowed his brow. “The room is below adequate temperature, and I will not be subjected to such discomforts while it is avoidable.”





	1. Boy Wonders, as in, Plural

     Dick had already felt like he was shifting farther and farther away from Batman. Perhaps it was just a sign of him growing closer to adulthood, maybe it was just a phase. Maybe Batman didn’t need him anymore? What if Batman didn’t _want_ him anymore?  
  
     Dick went to Mount Justice so that he could rid himself of these doubts. He didn’t expect Mount Justice to make them worse.  
  
     There were three different boys sitting on the couch. “Robin!” Wally sped up to him, enveloping him in a hug. “Thank god you’re here! We’ve been trying to get in contact with either you or Batman all night!”  
  
     “Sorry, we’ve been dealing with Scarecrow,” Robin apologized. “Uh… who are they?”  
  
     One of the boys flipped over the couch, landing in a perfect crouch before straightening out. What surprised Dick was the fact that this boy was wearing a Robin costume. Under a new observation, he realized that they all were. This one even had the green booty shorts Dick had worn in his earlier years.  
  
     “Robin, I guess,” The boy held out a gloved hand, and Dick hesitantly shook it.  
  
     “Uh…” Dick wasn’t sure if the kid was talking about himself, or about him. He was overcomplicating it.  
  
     “For the last time, we can’t all be called Robin!” The shortest, and probably the youngest, protested. He stood up, and Dick blinked in amazement. The kid was shorter than even him! Apparently, booty shorts Robin had made the analysis too.  
  
     “Hey, nobody asked you, Short Stack,” The boy crossed his arms.  
  
     “I would shut up now, Todd, before I cut out your tongue,” The short one threatened, a scowl on his face. Yeah, that one definitely seemed too violent to be Robin.  
  
     “Names,” The last of the three boys whispered, but he paid Violent Robin no mind. He kept staring at the one that Violent Robin had called Todd.  
  
     “Hey, how do you know my name anyways? I’m pretty sure I’ve never met you before,” Todd raised part of his mask.  
  
     “I know all of you,” Violent Robin waved off.  
  
     “I think we’re all from different placements in time,” The last Robin stated, though he was still staring at Todd.  
  
     “Of all your ridiculous ideas, that has got to be- Drake!” The boy suddenly yelled, and the boy whose apparent name was Drake took a step back, surprised. “Tt,” Violent Robin gave him an emotionless face that was scarily similar to Bruce’s. “You’re currently a nervous wreck.”  
  
     “Stop saying everybody’s names! We’re in front of the team!” Drake finally shouted. He covered his mouth suddenly, and whispered a quiet and almost unheard apology for raising his voice.  
  
     Sure enough, the different Robins had attracted a small audience. Miss Martian, Superboy, Aqualad, Kid Flash, and Artemis were watching the exchange go by without words. Dick felt his chest tighten.  
  
     “If… If you’re all Robin… What happens to me?” Dick finally asked. The three imposters suddenly stopped glaring at one another.  
  
     “Well…” Drake hesitates.  
  
     “You grew up,” Todd juts in, crossing his arms.  
  
     “I believe the term you were looking for is ‘made a few terrible fashion choices’,” Violent Robin frowned, giving off a very unimpressed look.  
  
     “They weren’t _that_ bad,” Drake glances over towards Dick nervously, but his eyes drift back towards Todd once again.  
  
     “It was that bad,” Todd and Violent Robin chorus in unison. They all look severely uncomfortable amongst each other, except for Violent Robin, who simply looks like he wants to rip off Drake and Todd’s heads.  
  
     “Okay…?” It’s not the answer he was looking for, but he’ll accept it for now.  
  
     “Where’s Batman?” Drake finally asked.  
  
     “What’s your problem?” Todd glares at him, and Drake shrinks back a bit. “You’ve been staring at me like I’m some sort of ghost this whole time!”  
  
     Violent Robin snickered, and it distracted Todd enough to allow Drake to hide behind a very confused Dick.  
  
     “So… how come you guys are all Robin?” Artemis finally asked. The Team all blinked at her. “What? Were we supposed to just stand here and stare at them the whole time?”  
  
     “We aren’t all Robin at the same time, I assure you,” Violent Robin scoffed. Dick studied Drake, who was clinging onto his cape for dear life.  
  
     “Now that I think about it, you look kind of familiar,” Dick stroked his chin, and Drake widened his mask’s lenses.  
  
     “...Time stream,” Was Drake’s weak response. Dick accepted it, if only because the kid looked absolutely terrified.  
  
     “I always knew you were a coward,” Violent Robin rolled his eyes, pulling out a batarang. Dick tenses, half expecting the kid to slit Drake’s throat (even though it was unlikely. After all, the kid was in the Robin suit, and Robin didn’t kill, no matter how many threats they liked to make.)  
  
     “But… the time stream!” Drake stood up a little bit, as if he was having a sudden epiphany about how he was being trash talked by someone who looked ten.  
  
     “What about it?” Violent Robin raised an eyebrow.  
  
     “We could accidentally wipe ourselves out of existence, or… or…” Drake looked straight to Dick for help. It suddenly occurred to Dick that they were all looking towards him for some sort of guidance, though he hadn’t a clue as to what to do.  
  
     Dick looked towards Kaldur for help.  
  
     “We should probably attempt to get a hold of Batman,” Kaldur gave Dick an ever so slight yet reassuring nod. Dick sighed in relief, but then Violent Robin ruined it.  
  
     “We don’t need Batman!” Violent Robin almost sounds forceful, but there’s some sort of sense of urgency in his voice.  
  
     “Who’s the coward now?” Todd taunts. Violent Robin winces, but folds his arms across his chest.  
  
     “I am no coward,” Violent Robin states, glaring at Todd furiously.  
  
     “Then why don’t _you_ call Batman yourself,” Todd challenged, a sly smirk playing across his lips. Violent Robin scowled, glancing towards Dick. “C’mon kid, I _dare_ you.”  
  
     That did it, apparently, because Violent Robin sucked in a large breath and turned towards Aqualad. “Fine then. I’ll call Batman. Lead the way.”  
  
     Aqualad dipped his head, and the two of them disappeared down a hallway. Drake returned to his hobby of staring at Todd, his face becoming increasingly pale as the minutes drew on.  
  
     “What?” Todd growled out, having had enough of this. “Why do you keep staring at me like that?”  
  
     Drake simply widened his eyes and hid behind Dick again, who felt severely uncomfortable. The Team still seemed shocked, but thankfully Megan snapped out of her trance.  
  
     “I’m going to… make some cookies,” She went into the kitchen, still glancing back with nervousness every couple of seconds. With Megan finally getting over it, everyone else dispersed as well.  
  
     “I’m not dealing with more than one Robin. Call me later,” Artemis walked towards the Zetas. Conner went into the kitchen without a word, probably going to help Megan with the cookies. Wally walked closer to Dick, who was thankful for his presence.  
  
     “So… any ideas on how long we’re going to be stuck here?” Todd questioned aloud. Dick shook his head slowly, glancing towards Wally.  
  
     “How did you guys get here in the first place?” Wally raised an eyebrow.  
  
     “I dunno, last thing I remember was Joker escaping Arkham. Bats made me stay home though,” Todd rolled his eyes. Just mentioning the Joker had made Drake begin to panic, and he clutched onto Dick’s cape tightly.  
  
     Drake took a few deep breaths, apparently calming himself down. He let go of Dick’s cape, blushing lightly as all eyes were on him. “Sorry, it’s just…” He glanced at Todd again, the blush leaving his face all at once.  
  
     “Is there something wrong with me?” Todd challenged, though his facial expression betrayed his tough attitude.  
  
     “Not technically, no… Sorry…” Drake apologized again, before letting out a yawn. “I haven’t slept in a few days.”  
  
     “Define a few?” Todd muttered. Drake shrugged, scratching the top of his head.  
  
     “Three?” He sounded unsure. “If this is a time thing, I can’t exactly ask what day it is.”  
  
     “Okay, and we’re getting you a guest room immediately,” Dick pointed out.  
  
     “I’m fine,” Drake protested, crossing his arms. He swayed slightly, and Dick simply raised an eyebrow.  
  
     “Uh-huh. Perfectly fine,” He was about to pick the kid up and carry him up to guest rooms whether he liked it or not, but something distracted him.  
  
     “I believe we will all be needing guest rooms,” Violent Robin trotted back in. He sounded angry, to say the least. If Dick had to guess, he’d say Violent Robin’s conversation with Batman hadn’t gone too well.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m… fine, for the most part. I mean, it’s a little shocking to learn that I have not one, not even two, but three people who’ll eventually replace me,” Dick glared at the wall. “My fashion sense isn’t too bad, right?”

     “How are you holding up?” Wally asked. Dick was staying in one of the guest rooms while the other Robin’s were here as precaution, and since it was a Friday night, Wally had asked his parents if he could stay in the mountain as well.  
  
     No way was he going to leave Dick alone with three other, probably just as skilled, Robins.  
  
     The timid one, Drake, was fast asleep and had curled himself into Dick’s side, which was kind of weird considering the kid had to be at least eleven. Dick said it was fine, and that the kid was probably being clingy as a precaution against nightmares. If the way he’d paled when Todd had brought up the Joker was any indication, at least.  
  
     Todd was in the room across from them. He seemed a bit older, maybe even older than Dick. Maybe around fourteen, fifteenish? Wally had to admit, of the three future Robins, he liked Todd more than the others. (Though he still preferred Dick.)  
  
     “I’m… fine, for the most part. I mean, it’s a little shocking to learn that I have not one, not even two, but three people who’ll eventually replace me,” Dick glared at the wall. “My fashion sense isn’t too bad, right?”  
  
     “I’m fairly certain your fashion sense is fine,” Wally rolled his eyes. Just then, Drake shot straight up, breathing heavily. He blinked a few times, and looked over at Dick and Wally.  
  
     “Sorry,” He apologized, still looking panicked.  
  
     “Hey, it’s nothing to be sorry about, okay?” Dick soothed, rubbing the kid’s back gently, succeeding in getting him to calm down a bit. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
     “Joker, he… the faces… Jason…” Drake shook his head, squeezing his blue eyes shut. (Which was one thing Wally had noticed was a trait between all four of the birds.)  
  
     “Who’s Jason?” Dick blinked, suddenly confused.  
  
     “Jason Todd,” Drake pulled some of the sheets closer to him.  
  
     “Oh,” Dick glanced towards Wally, who shrugged. “You’re going to be okay, Drake.”  
  
     “Tim,” He corrected. “It’s actually Tim Drake.”  
  
     The door opened up, and a shaking Jason entered the room. “Nightmare,” He supplied, crawling into bed next to Dick without a second thought. Wally scooted over to make a little more room for him.  
  
     “...Wanna talk-”  
  
     “No.” Jason stared at ceiling. Dick frowned.  
  
     “You don’t have to talk about your nightmare then, just… what’s your favorite things to do?” Dick tried.  
  
     “Well… I like reading,” Jason sighed. “And… chili dogs. Chili dogs are the best.”  
  
     Dick nodded. “What about you, Tim?”  
  
     “Wait, Tim? I thought your name was Drake?” Jason blinked. Tim gave him a slight glare before he began to think.  
  
     “I like taking pictures, I guess. It’s fun. Oh, and I used to dance a lot, but I haven’t recently,” Tim yawned once again, but there was a fond smile on his face now. In fact, Wally was fairly certain that was the first smile he’d seen the kid have since he’d gotten here.  
  
     “That sounds like fun. What do you take pictures of? Oh, and Jason, what’s your favorite book?” Dick glanced between the two boys. Both immediately blushed.  
  
     “...Jane Eyre,” Came the embarrassed voice of Jason, barely above a whisper.  
  
     “I’ve never read it, but maybe I’ll check it out later,” Dick smiled awkwardly.  
  
     “I used to take pictures of… well, you two,” Tim gestured to Dick and Jason. “Before I was Robin. I used to follow you guys on the rooftops. I even memorized your patrol routine. Now I mostly just stick to stuff I find in the garden.”  
  
     “Wait a second, you followed us on rooftops?” Dick gave him a blank stare, and Tim nodded ever-so-slowly.  
  
     “I found out your identities when I was nine,” Tim supplied, and even Jason looked impressed.  
  
     “How’d you do it?” Jason looked suddenly intrigued.  
  
     “Dick did a quadruple flip while on TV once, and there was only one person who would’ve been able to do a move like that that I could think of. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. And if Dick Grayson was Robin, that meant that Bruce Wayne had to be the Batman,” Tim rambled.  
  
     “Dude,” Wally breathed out, thoroughly impressed.  
  
     “Grayson!” The door slid open once again, and in waltzed Violent Robin. (He’d yet to tell anyone his real name, even though he seemed to know everyone else’s.)  
  
     “Nightmare?” Dick questioned.  
  
     “Tt, no,” Violent Robin furrowed his brow. “The room is below adequate temperature, and I will not be subjected to such discomforts while it is avoidable.”  
  
     “...Okay?” Dick looked at Wally, and Wally sighed.  
  
     “I guess I’ll go grab an air mattress,” Wally rolled his eyes. He got to the utility closet, grabbed an air mattress along with a pump, then grabbed a second air mattress for just in case. He set the supplies down, started the pump, then went to grab some basic bedding. Then… he waited. Violent Robin was still standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed across his chest.  
  
     Wally made one of the air mattresses up for him, and he nodded in satisfaction before plopping down in it. He made up the second one for himself, since everyone else seemed to be having a sleepover in Dick’s room anyways.  
  
     “I know this might sound weird, but Dick, can you sing us a lullaby?” Jason asked, and Wally couldn’t help but snigger.  
  
     “Dick? Sing softly?” He asked. He was pleasantly surprised when Dick didn’t say anything, choosing to go straight to singing.  
  
           _“The rose was born quite beautiful, yes quite a catch, quite fair,_  
  
           _The rose was born quite beautiful, and nothing could compare,_  
  
           _The rose boasted and gloated and bragged her whole life,_  
  
           _The rose prated and puffed and blustered her whole life,_  
  
           _Then she began to wilt, yes she began to wilt…_  
  
           _The gardener came, and cut her down,_  
  
           _No longer was she so fair,_  
  
           _For beauty only last so long,_  
  
           _So drama queens beware,”_  
  
     Dick sang quietly enough. Tim had fallen asleep again, and Jason seemed to be on the verge of drifting off. Wally was still comprehending.  
  
     “Wait a second, I’ve never heard that song before, where’d you learn it?” Wally questioned.  
  
     “Would you believe me if I said I made it up?”  
  
     “So you’re telling me _you_ wrote a song about _not_ being a drama queen?” Wally raised an eyebrow.  
  
     “Will you guys shut up?” Violent Robin hissed, rolling over.  
  
     “Somebody’s a drama queen,” Wally quipped.  
  
&     “West, I will slit your throat if you don’t stop talking,” Violent Robin threatened. Wally didn’t really believe that, but he figured it was better to not test the kids patience.  
  
     “G’night Wally,” Dick smiled.  
  
     “Night,” Wally closed his eyes, letting sleep overtake him.


	3. Breakfast Waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>        “Wait a second, does this mean _I’m_ the oldest?” Jason looked towards Dick, smirk beginning to form.  
>   
>        “Time travel does not, under no circumstances, make you the eldest in this family,” Short Robin sneered.  
>   
>        “On the contrary, Shorty, I am verifiably the oldest kid here,” Jason crossed his arms.

     When Tim awoke the next morning, the only other person in the room was a snoring Wally. Carefully, he clambered out of bed. Doing a perfect leap over Wally’s air mattress so he wouldn’t wake the speedster up, he walked out of the room ever so quietly. There was breakfast being made in the kitchen. Miss Martian waved as he entered the room, cheery smile on her face as usual.  
  
     “Hello… Robin?” She sounded uncertain by the name, but Tim gave out an uneasy nod anyways. She looked… different. Happier, maybe? Her hair was longer, too, and she obviously looked younger.  
  
     “What’re you making?” Tim tilted his head.  
  
     “Waffles,” Miss M gestured to the waffle iron. Tim nodded in approval.  
  
     “Do you know where the other Robins are?” Tim looked around the room, noticing that it was very much empty besides him and Miss M.  
  
     “You’re the first one I’ve seen up, sorry,” Miss M shrugged, taking her waffles from the waffle iron and placing more batter in it. “You’re welcome to wait here, I’m sure they won’t want to miss breakfast.”  
  
     “What if they went home without me?” Tim sat on the couch.  
  
     “We’re still working on the technology to send you guys back to your own times,” Miss Martian assured him, but Tim shook his head.  
  
     “Not that home, I mean… the house? What if they went back to the house without me?” Tim looked worried.  
  
     “I thought you lived in cave,” Miss M blinked.  
  
     “Sort of, but no,” Tim shook his head. It was a lot easier to talk to Miss Martian than it was to talk to his brothers. Dick was still in a bit of shock, Jason was dead in his time, and the other kid didn’t seem to like him very much.Miss M on the other hand, while still a little surprised, was much easier to talk to. Maybe it was in part the fact that he wasn’t close to her in his own time, so it hurt a little less that she didn’t know him in the slightest.  
  
     “Here, you might as well eat. There might not be any left after Wally wakes up,” Miss Martian handed him a plate. There were some toppings to his left. He covered it in whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and berries before digging in.  
  
     After he’d finished, he brought the plate to the sink. “Thanks Miss M, it was delicious,” He dipped his head. He heard the whine of the zeta beam, and a mechanical voice announced Batman’s arrival.  
  
     The Dark Knight walked into the living room, scanning the area. Tim stepped out, making sure Bruce could see him. He walked straight towards him, and Tim had to refrain from backing away. “Where’s everyone else?”  
  
     The voice was much more stern than Tim was used to. Tim was frozen in place, staring at the stoic face of the Batman. Flashing images of his nightmare played back in his mind.Joker had placed everyone’s heads on a dinner platter. Bruce’s face, Alfred’s, Dick’s… He began breathing faster. Jason’s face was the worst to view. The Joker had dug his rotten corpse up just to add his head to the group and-  
Tim suddenly realized he was being shaken. He blinked, and Batman was closer to him than he remembered. Tim grasped onto him, clinging tightly. Bruce awkwardly hugged him back, and quiet sobs let themselves escape from Tim. He didn’t care. The real heads on those dinner plates last week were disturbing in themselves, let alone a Joker and Scarecrow team-up.  
  
     Miss Martian lingered back a few feet, watching the exchange. “Is he okay?” She asked, worry filling her gaze.  
  
     “Robin, what’s wrong?” Bruce tried, but the tone was wrong. Tim shook his head. The tone was filled with too many questions. Tim knew Bruce wanted to know why he was wearing the suit and not Dick. He knew he’d want to know how he became Robin. Then he’d try to prevent Jason’s death, and the whole time stream would be screwed.  
  
     “Batman?” It was Dick, walking into the room with Jason and the other Robin trailing behind him. The moment he caught sight of them, he widened his eyes. “Tim? Are you okay?”  
  
     Tim shook his head, burying his face farther into Batman. The Robin who still refrained from giving his name stood rigid at the sight of Batman, and Jason looked like he was torn between joining the hugging fest and keeping the tough guy persona.  
  
     Dick hesitated before crouching down next to him, and pulling him into an awkward side hug. Batman sighed, rubbing Tim’s back in soothing circles. “It’s alright, Tim,” It still sounded wrong.  
  
     “Would you like some water?” Miss Martian offered. Tim gave a slow nod. He was just glad he wasn’t wearing his mask currently. He’d only cried in the mask once, and that was because he’d gotten shot for the first time.  
  
     Miss M handed him a glass full of water, and Tim downed it quickly. Bruce, no wait, Batman, he had to remember to call him Batman while he wore the cape.  
  
     “What’s wrong, Tim? I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” Batman whispered.  
  
     “You don’t want me as Robin, do you?” Tim looked up at Batman. Batman was taken aback. Miss M quietly left the room, sensing that it no longer involved her. The younger Robin muttered something Tim couldn’t quite hear, but Jason elbowed him in the ribs, successfully shutting him up. “I’m not an acrobat like Dick, and I don’t have street smarts like Jason…”  
  
     “From what Dick told me, it sounds like you’re quite the little detective,” Batman gave him a hesitant half smile. “You figured it out all on your own?”  
  
     “Mhmm,” Tim nodded slowly, not entirely understanding where this was going.  
  
     “You have to have some great moves if you’re in that suit, too,” Dick added. Tim rubbed the R silently, remembering the six months of training he’d had to go through.  
  
     “Yeah…” Tim whispered quietly. “But I’m not like _you_.”  
  
     Dick stared at him for about half a minute too long before his reply came out. “So what if you’re not like me?”  
  
     “Considering Grayson’s joy in leaping out of helicopters without parachutes, I would say that’s a good thing,” The short Robin added dryly. Nobody really had anything to say after those words were said. Short Robin noticed all eyes were on him, so he raised an eyebrow. “Well? He does!”  
  
     “You’re not wrong,” Tim muttered, glancing towards Dick, slightly amused.  
  
     “Of course I’m not wrong,” Short Robin rolled his eyes.  
  
     Batman stood up. It was clear to Tim that he still felt very awkward about this whole situation, but at least he wasn’t pushing them all away. He knew his parents would’ve done that, if it’d happened to them. They pushed Tim away all the time, and he was actually meant to be there.  
  
     Tim looked over towards Dick with a frown. “Where did all of you go?”  
  
     “We were sparring in the training room,” Dick smiled lightly. “We would’ve taken you with us, but we figured you needed your sleep, so we let you be.”   
     “Oh,” Tim didn’t know why his first reaction had been that they’d left him in the cave forever. Well, actually, now that he thought about it, that would’ve been something his parents would have done. Why did everything always come back to his parents?  
  
     Was Tim missing in his time? Had he simply disappeared without a trace, or would he immediately go back to the exact second he’d been in. Maybe this entire scenario was just one weird dream. But, no, it couldn’t be a dream, because he’d never seen that last Robin before, and he was fairly certain he would have woken up by now if it were a dream. Besides, you can’t have nightmares if you’re already dreaming. So, back to wondering if he was missing then. Had Bruce notified his parents? Did they even care?  
  
     Bruce’s voice cut him from his thoughts. “How long have each of you been Robin?” Tim frowned. He couldn’t give an exact answer, but he’d been Robin for roughly two months now. He said as much.  
  
     Everyone else blinked. “What?” Tim asked.  
  
     “I’ve been Robin for two and a half years,” Jason supplied, eyes wide with slight shock.  
  
     “A little over a year,” Short Robin crossed his arms.  
  
     “Four years,” Dick knitted his eyebrows together.  
  
     “Oh,” Tim blinked. Wow.  
  
     “So I take it you’re twelve then,” Short Robin sighed.  
  
     “Wait a second, does this mean _I’m_ the oldest?” Jason looked towards Dick, smirk beginning to form.  
  
     “Time travel does not, under no circumstances, make you the eldest in this family,” Short Robin sneered.  
  
     “On the contrary, Shorty, I am verifiably the oldest kid here,” Jason crossed his arms. Short Robin rolled his eyes, and Jason gave a a satisfied smile. There was a thoughtful look in his eyes before he turned to Batman. “Since Alfred’s not here, does that mean I can assign the chores?”  
  
     Batman stared at him for a considerably long time before giving curt “No,” as an answer.  
  
     “Aw, c’mon B! Please?” Jason pouted.  
  
     “Fine, but it’s to be approved by me first,” Batman rolled his eyes.  
  
     “Yes!” Jason pumped his fist into the air with victory. He immediately took off, presumably to go create the chores list. He stuck his head back out the door. “Wait, I get to add the Team members too, right?”  
  
     Batman gave him a tired nod. Jason gave a cheery smile and disappeared again.  
  
     “We’re going to regret this, aren’t we,” Dick stared in the direction Jason had left.  
  
     “Most likely,” Short Robin agreed solemnly.  
  
     That was one thing that didn’t make any sense to Tim. Short Robin didn’t seem to be affected in the least by Jason being around. Maybe it was just because Short Robin had never actually met him. Tim was probably overthinking things.  
  
     “So… what are we going to do in the meantime?” Tim looked around. Batman let out a long sigh.  
  
     “I, along with the rest of the league, are going to try and figure out how you got here in the first place. Once we figure that out, we can begin finding ways to get you home. Until then, you three will be staying here. Dick, you can stay again tonight if you want, but you’ll have to stay in Gotham tomorrow night. You have school Monday,” Batman answered.  
  
     “Wait, that’s it? No interrogations? No ‘you’ll have someone watching you at all times?’ No threats about what will happen if we disobey your orders?” Jason piped up from the intercom.  
  
     “How did you-” Batman started.  
  
     “You haven’t changed the password yet,” Jason’s voice echoed throughout the room as he began laughing.  
  
     “You will have to take at least two people with you should you leave the mountain, but beyond that, no,” Bats shook his head.   
     “Can you have Agent A bring cookies if we’re good?” Jason asked.  
  
     “Maybe tomorrow, if you’re good,” Batman crossed his arms. “Black Canary will be here later this evening to check in. Now, I have a meeting in less than an hour, and I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”  
  
     “Hey, Robin numbero uno, how would you like your chore be to clean the ceiling,” Jason cackled once more before shutting the intercom off.  
  
     Dick glared at the camera on the wall. “Absolutely not.”  
  
     “Too bad!” Jason shouted over the intercom again. The zetas announced Batman’s dismissal, but Tim wasn’t really paying attention to that.   
     “So… what’re we going to do today?” Dick back and forth between Short Robin and Tim.  
  
     “I vote chili dogs for lunch,” Jason interrupted.  
  
     “Yeah, okay, fine! We can have chili dogs for lunch, just stop with the intercom!” Dick shouted out, clenching his fists.  
  
     “Sure thing, _little_ bro,” Jason cackled once again.  
  
     “I don’t know about any of you, but I am going to go train,” Short Robin stalked off, probably headed towards the training room.  
  
     “Can we go get some clothes? This uniform is nice and all, but I think it’s going to get old fast,” Tim suggested. Dick thought it over, before nodding.  
  
     “Yeah, good idea. Jason, you hear that?” He looked towards the camera again.  
  
     “Affirmative, but what are we going to wear over there?” He called back.  
  
     “Tim might fit in my clothes, and you could see if Superboy’s clothes will fit you okay. Mine are probably too small for you,” Dick suggested.  
  
     “Don’t we need two chaperones?” Tim frowned.  
  
     “Hey, Jason, will you call Megan over here please?” Dick sighed.  
  
     “Sure thing,” Jason then changed the intercom speakers to go to every room. “Megan Morse, please come to the office. Megan Morse!”  
  
     Sure enough, Miss M floated in. “Uh, Jason said you wanted to ask me something?”  
  
     “Yeah, Batman says that they have to have two people with them when outside the cave. We were going to go shopping, wanna come?” Dick invited. Megan’s face instantly lit up.  
  
     “Oh! I haven’t had the chance to go shopping yet!” She looked like a kid who’d just found out they were going on a trip to Disneyland.  
  
     “Hey, Tim, wanna go alert you know who?” Dick asked.  
  
     “I…” Tim blinked.  
  
     “I’ve got it, no worries,” Jason replied over the intercom again. “He doesn’t wanna come, but he says he wears a size 10, and, I’m quoting here, ‘if anybody gets him a shirt with a bat on it, there will be no mercy.’ I would recommend not giving him a shirt with a bat on it. I think he seriously means no mercy.” Jason reported.  
  
     “Great, now get down here if you’re coming with us,” Dick groaned.  
  
     “I’m going to raid Superboy’s closet first. Feel free to get Tim into civvies while you wait,” Jason shut the intercom off again.  
  
     “How did he even get access to that?” Miss M wondered aloud.  
  
     “Don’t know, don’t particularly care,” Dick let out a sigh. “C’mon Tim, may as well get you some clothes.”


	4. Jason x Chili Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Go for it! Don't let B stop you! You're Robin, it's your job to not listen to Batman's orders!" Jason cheered him on. 
> 
> Dick turned around to glare at him.

      Jason had insisted on getting chili dogs for lunch. They were one of those things that you just never got tired of. Plus, they brought good memories back to him.  
  
      Which is how they found themselves at Happy Harbor Community Park. Dick still looked uncomfortable with him and Tim, but it was honestly better than Jason had expected. When Dick… well, older Dick, anyways, had met him for the first time, he’d been so busy yelling at Bruce he hadn’t even bothered trying to get to know him. At least this Dick was trying to get to know them.  
  
      It felt strange to Jason, too. Now he knew how Dick had felt. His future replacement was sitting right in front of him, eyeing the chili dog with uncertainty.  
  
      “What’s the matter with it?” Jason raised an eyebrow.  
  
      “I’ve never really had a hot dog covered in chili before,” Tim admitted, looking back up at Jason. His face went slack with horror.  
  
      “What do you mean you’ve _never_ had a chili dog before!” Jason shouted, standing up in shock. “I thought you were my brother? How could I have allowed this to go on!”  
  
      Poor Tim had leaned back, eyes wide with the sudden outburst. Megan gave a slight smile. “Don’t worry, Tim, I’ve never had one before either.”  
  
      “What!” Jason was about to faint. “Listen, if you could actually become married to food, I wouldn’t be single anymore. I’d be married to a chili dog. Not this chili dog, though. No. A chili dog from that one chili dog stand on the corner of 117th and Myter over in Gotham. Those are the best damn chili dogs on the face of the planet. At my funeral, I want those chili dogs to be the main dish at the after party. Listen, Timmy, when you get back to the future, you’re going to find me, and ask me about the chili dog place on the corner of 117th and Myter, because I seriously doubt Bats will let us in Gotham right now. Trust me, there isn’t anything I won’t do for chili dogs. I would _kill_ people for chili dogs, and I’m not even joking about that.”  
  
      “O-kay then,” Tim blinked. Jason kept staring at him, waiting. Tim slowly picked up the chili dog, eyeing Jason suspiciously. He took a bite, and Jason leaned forwards.  
  
      “Soooo…?” Jason smiled.  
  
      “So what?” Tim creased his eyebrows.  
  
      “So, is it the best thing you’ve ever had?” Jason inquired.  
  
      “I wouldn’t say the _best_ thing, but it’s pretty good, I guess,” Tim frowned. Jason deflated. Maybe he could convert Shorty to the chili dog side. Jason had already known that Megan hadn’t had a chili dog before, because he’d introduced her to them when he was first Robin. Wait a second. Had he just screwed up the timeline by introducing Megan to chili dogs early?  
  
      Jason just couldn’t believe he’d let his younger brother go his entire life without chili dogs. Sure, Tim’d only been _Robin_ for two months, but that didn’t mean he’d only lived with Bruce for two months, right? Surely he would’ve visited at some point and forced both Tim and Bruce to go out for chili dogs. That was when an awful thought creeped across his mind.  
  
      He wasn’t sick of chili dogs by Tim’s time, was he?  
  
      Alfred had warned him it might happen. Jason had just the old man had been teasing him.  
  
      Jason was wearing a black t-shirt with a bright red bat on the chest. There were a bunch of small, silvery bats on it too, and those glowed in the dark. He’d forced Tim and Dick to get matching shirts, and had bought one in Bruce and Damian’s sizes as well. He didn’t care about there being no mercy. These shirts were pretty freaking awesome.  
  
      Megan had morphed herself into one of the matching t-shirts, too. She hadn’t actually bought any clothing, but had apparently liked the idea of window shopping.  
  
      Jason had found a camera that was reasonably priced, and got it for Tim, because he’d mentioned the night before that he liked photography, and the kid seriously needed something familiar. At least, Jason was pretty sure familiarity was one of the things that helped calm people down in weird situations. He then proceeded to buy out a game store on all of their decks of playing cards for the sole purpose of being able to burn the Joker cards in a large pile.  
  
      Then he bought Jane Eyre, and a few more of Jason’s favorite books, for Dick to read, since he’d promised he would. Jason really hoped Dick liked the classics. He was never really quite sure, Dick rarely ever came to visit.  
  
      Jason was actually kind of enjoying getting to spend time with him.  
  
      Jason was broken out of his internal thoughts as someone’s hands suddenly slammed onto the table. “You guys went for chili dogs without me?” Ah, yes, Wally. Jason had mostly forgotten about him.  
  
      “Here, go buy yourself one,” Dick pulled a five from his pocket. Jason could tell he was rolling his eyes under those sunglasses.  
  
      “Thanks Rob!” Wally gave a toothy grin before walking over towards the chili dog stand a few feet away. He came back with his chili dog, sliding in next to Dick.  
  
      “I’m making chili dogs for dinner tomorrow,” Jason decided. “I say we go to Walmart for our next stop.”  
  
      “At this rate, we’re going to need to rent a car just to get all of this home,” Dick looked at the pile of bags below the table.  
  
      “We need to get Short Stack something that isn’t clothing, too,” Jason frowned, trying to think of something the kid would like. The problem was, he didn’t know anything about him. What was something all ten-year-olds liked? Plushies. All ten-year-olds liked plushies. Jason suspected that might be something they could get at Walmart.  
  
      Megan offered to take the clothes back to the mountain now that Wally was with them, and the rest of the group migrated to Walmart. Jason grabbed five packages of hotdogs, enough buns that each hot dog would have an accompanying piece of bread, and the making for chili. He grabbed two extra loaves of bread, just in case. They came towards the cereal aisle, and Jason wondered if Wally knew Dick’s favorite meal or not.  
  
      “Hey, Dick, you like Lucky Charms, right?” Jason wiggled his eyebrows.  
  
      “Yeah, but Alfred doesn’t let me have cereal very often,” Dick let out a sigh. No, this wouldn’t do. There were three family size bags full of the brand just sitting there, waiting to be bought. Jason hoisted them all into the shopping cart.  
  
      “You’re seriously going to buy that?” Dick raised an eyebrow.  
  
      “You do have an almost endless supply in your apartment,” Tim piped up from behind them. Jason jumped slightly. He’d almost forgotten the kid was there.  
  
      “Alright, I had an idea for what to get Pipsqueak,” Jason pushed the cart towards the children’s toys. Sure enough, there were plenty of plushies to choose from. “How mad do you think he’d get if I buy him the Batman one?”  
  
      “What about the Robin one?” Dick smirked slightly.  
  
      “How about both?” Wally smiled.  
  
      “I think he’d rather the cat,” Tim frowned.  
  
      “You’re no fun,” Jason rolled his eyes, but grabbed the cat anyways. He set it in the cart before he noticed a bunch of kickballs, and grabbed one of those too. They had to have something interesting to do while they were there.  
  
      It was at Walmart that the boys realized they would need underwear, to which they were quick to place a supply of into the cart. Tim found a bunch of hero themed hoodies too, and so they got one for everyone, including the Team members. Wally insisted they each get a hoodie of their mentor, which meant four Batman hoodies, a Flash one, an Aquaman one, a Superman one, a Green Arrow one, and even a Martian Manhunter hoodie. (Even though M’gann really didn’t need it.)

      By the time they got back to the cave, Jason was exhausted. “Hey Wally, can you go find Grumpy Muffin for me?”  
  
      “Sure thing,” Wally sped off towards the training room. Short Stack came in, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.  
  
      “I got you this,” Jason tossed him the cat plushie. “Well, actually, Tim picked it out for you.”  
  
      “Drake picked this up for me?” Shorty blinked in surprise. Jason nodded slowly. Why did that seem like such a hard concept to get around?  
      “I’ll tell him you said thanks,” Jason chuckled, then handed him two bags filled with clothes. “And these are also for you.”  
  
      The Short One picked up the shirt that was identical to the one Jason was wearing. “What. Is. This?”  
  
      “I bought one for Batman, too. We’re going to get family pictures done while everyone’s all young. It’s going to be great,” Jason gives him a grin. The little gremlin that was supposed to be his future baby brother scowled. It reminded him of Bruce.  
  
      “Are you sure that is such a great idea?” He raised an eyebrow. “What if it inadvertently effects the timeline?”  
  
      “Since when do you care about the timeline?” Jason scoffs.  
  
      “Why do you think I haven’t told anyone my name,” He frowns.  
  
      “Yet you’ve said everybody else's. Listen, Shortcake, your name can’t be _that_ bad. So, spill,” Jason placed a hand on his hip.  
  
      “First name only,” Short Pants narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Damian.”  
  
      “See, was that so hard?” Jason smirked. “Besides, Damian’s not the worst name out there. You could be named… I dunno… Deathbed or something.”  
      Damian glared at him.  
  
      “Alright, alright, I’m just kidding, jeez,” Jason held his hands up in surrender. “Oh, and as for chores, you and Timberlina are getting laundry duty.”  
  
      “What?” Damian hissed.  
  
      “Yep,” Jason smirked, popping the ‘p’.  
  
      “I don’t know _how_ to do laundry!” Damian widened his eyes. Jason laughed, until he realized the kid was being serious.  
  
      “Tim could probably show-”  
  
      “Tim doesn’t know how to do laundry either!” Damian whisper shouted.  
  
      “You sound so sure of that,” Jason rolled his eyes.  
  
      “I am positive of that. He also cannot cook, nor should he be trusted with any sort of cleaning chemical,” Damian pointed out.  
  
      “...” Jason paused to think. “So what you’re saying is that I need to teach you two the arts of cooking and cleaning.”  
  
      “Wha-” Damian cut himself off as Dick and Tim came back into the room.  
  
      “Timbers, good news! You, me, and Damian are going to be learning the basics of housekeeping!” Jason gave a cheery smile. “Dick, you’re still on ceiling cleaning duty, along with vacuuming.”  
  
      “No fair,” Dick pouted. “Hang on, did you just say Damian?”  
  
      Said kid turned at the sound of his name. Jason placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Oh, did I forget to mention that Shorty McGrumpsolot finally gave us a name to his pretty face?”  
  
      Dick’s mouth turned upward to the twinge of a smile. “It suits you.”  
  
      “Oh, Dickie, here’s the rest of the Team’s chores,” Jason handed him a piece of paper.  
  
      “I’m wondering if I should just go off and tell the Team my identity since _none of you are capable of keeping secrets_ ,” Dick hissed, grabbing the paper from Jason and stalking towards the exit.  
  
      “Go for it! Don’t let B stop you! You’re Robin, it’s your job to not listen to B’s orders!” Jason cheered him on.  
  
      Dick turned around to glare at him before walking towards the ocean’s entrance, where he would undoubtedly find Kaldur.  
  
      “Come on, my padawan’s, we’ve got some laundry to do!” Jason lead the small army of Robins (excluding Dick, of course) towards the laundry room. “Batman may not be able to operate a washing machine, but that doesn’t mean you two should be crippled as well.”


	5. Everyone Makes Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>      Damian’s mind was warring with him. On one hand, Jason was _right there_ , and he could warn him about Ethiopia, about Sheila Haywood, about the Joker. On the other hand, it could screw up the timeline, irreversibly.

     Damian didn’t know how Todd had managed to rope him into this. He shouldn’t have told him his name. What if they found out who he was? They already didn’t trust him in his own time. If they found out who he really was…  
  
     Damian watched Drake and Todd work together to fold a blanket. He himself was currently folding a pair of pants carefully. This Todd seemed… different. Less angry, maybe even happier. It made Damian wonder what had happened to this kid.  
  
     Oh wait, he knew exactly what happened to this kid. The Joker.  
  
     Damian just hoped Drake wouldn’t tell him. So far he was being good about not telling Todd what happens to him, but Damian wasn’t so sure how long that would last. However, Drake could manage to be in the same room as him without staring at him and growing pale, so that was a plus.  
  
     The pair of pants just wouldn’t fold. Damian threw them at the wall, letting out a growl of frustration. Todd and Drake, who had just finished folding their blanket, looked towards him in concern.  
  
     “Damian? You okay?” Drake asked tentatively. Ah yes, that was another thing that was weird. Drake had absolutely no self confidence. At least it seemed he hadn’t lost his self preservation just yet. Maybe it had been a trade. Confidence for survival instincts.  
  
     “Fine.” Damian grumbled, standing up.  
  
     “We can take a break if you want,” Todd offered. Damian looked over at their pile of clothes that they had managed to finish folding, and over at his own, which had exactly three shirts sloppily put together.  
  
     “Go ahead,” Damian sat back down, bringing his knees to his chest. He sucked at everything. While putting the clothing in the dryer, he’d somehow managed to set it on fire. (Drake had put way too much soap in the washing machine and it had flooded bubbles throughout the mountain, but that was beside the point.) He’d broken half the dishes while trying to wash them. They had to close off the bathroom because he’d accidentally created a dangerous gas in the toilet using cleaning supplies. (Who knew that was even a possibility?)  
  
     At least he’d managed to take out the trash without any casualties.  
  
     Damian could tell Todd and Drake were hesitating, but thankfully they both left him alone in the room. A single tear fell down his cheek making a wet dot on his jeans. He wiped his face with his sleeve, the rough fabric making his eyes sting slightly for a second until they adjusted.  
  
     He missed his Grayson. And Todd, and Cain, and Gordon, and yes, even Brown and Drake. He missed his father, and Pennyworth. Sure, these were supposedly the same people, but it wasn’t the same. This Grayson had no idea what his favorite ice cream flavor was. This Grayson had never forced him to go to a carnival and discovered Damian’s liking for cotton candy.  
  
     A small part of him wanted to just _tell_ this Grayson all of that, but it still wouldn’t be the same. Everything was different, including Grayson.  
  
     Damian sucked in a breath. It had hardly registered that he’d been crying. He picked up a towel from the pile of unfolded clothing, wiping his face off before he stood up. His steps were slightly shaky for a moment, but he was fine after he got better control over his breathing. He walked out of the room and into the kitchen, pulling a popsicle from the fridge and sitting next to Superboy on the couch.  
  
     They both kind of just sat there, staring at the static of the television, Damian eating his popsicle, in silence. Superboy didn’t even flinch when Damian backflipped off the couch to throw the popsicle stick away. He came back, mostly because Superboy didn’t ask any unwanted questions.  
  
     The zeta tubes announced the arrival of Artemis, who walked in. “Oh, you guys are still here,” She frowned, but didn’t say anything else. She went straight for the fridge, staring into it for a few minutes.  
  
     “So… I take it you’ll be here for a few days then?” Artemis sat on the other side of Superboy. Damian nodded.  
  
     “I suppose so,” Damian crossed his arms. Of all of Grayson’s friends, Crock wasn’t so bad. Perhaps he got along with Crock because they both had connections on the wrong side of the law.  
  
     “It must suck being stuck in the past, huh,” Artemis mused. “Any cool technology that you miss?”  
  
     “Not particularly, no. However, the comms were a bit less bulky,” Damian sighed.  
  
     “Less bulky comms, that’s something to look forward too,” Artemis smiled.  
  
     “But we don’t use comms very often,” Superboy tilted his head in confusion.  
  
     “We do in Gotham,” Damian rolled his eyes. “Especially when Batman is being an idiot.”  
  
     “Wow, I think that might literally be the first time I’ve ever heard someone call Batman an idiot,” Artemis leaned back, closing her eyes.  
  
     “Not your Batman. He’s… out of commission, in my time. Don’t tell Grayson, though,” Damian added as an afterthought.  
  
     “Grayson?” Artemis shot back up. “What does Dick Grayson have to- Oh, I’m going to kill that little twerp!”  
  
     Damian followed after her as she rose off the couch. Hadn’t Grayson told everyone on the team his identity after it became apparent that it wouldn’t last long anyways? She slammed the door open into his room, where Jason, Tim, and Wally were all talking.  
  
     “WE’LL LAUGH ABOUT THIS SOMEDAY?!” Artemis shouted, grabbing Dick’s shirt in a fistfull and pulling him forwards. “Are you serious?”  
  
     “Somebody’s in trouble,” Todd whistled, shaking his head. It didn’t take long for him to burst out laughing.  
  
     “Crap, I forgot you weren’t here for the big unveiling ceremony,” Grayson winced. “Sorry, Arty.”  
  
     “As amusing as this is,” Damian rolled his eyes, stepping into the room. “If Crock were to attack Grayson, I would say that most everyone in here would instantly take Grayson’s side.”  
  
     “Speak for yourself,” Todd chuckled. “Sorry, Goldie, but you’re on your own.”  
  
     “Says the one who thought that defeating crime required you to become a drug lord,” Damian rolled his eyes before pausing. He hadn't meant to say that. He’d just… oh, this was bad, this was very bad.  
  
     “I _what?_ ” Todd whipped around. The amusement in his eyes was gone. “My mom died because of drugs, and you’re telling me that I become a _drug lord?_ ”  
  
     “It was temporary,” Damian backed out of the room a few steps, unsure of what this Jason would do. If it was his own Jason, he’d probably have a gun aimed at his head right about now, but this Jason hadn’t killed anyone, probably didn’t even realize he ever would. “And you never sold to kids.”  
  
     “That makes it any better?” Todd looked hurt at the very idea. “Why?”  
  
     Drake had opened his mouth to say something, but Damian gave him a slight shake of the head.  
  
     “You think I know why? I wasn’t around yet, and I never bothered to ask. You rarely visit, and when you _do_ visit…” Damian stopped talking. “When you visit, you and I don’t get along very well. Don’t take it personally though, I don’t get along with Drake either.”  
  
     “What about me?” Grayson piped up, his shirt still bunched up by Artemis’ fist.  
  
     “You keep insisting on taking me to carnivals, despite my many protests,” Damian frowned.  
  
     “So… I’m the favorite sibling, right?”  
  
     “No, that honor goes to Cain, but I suppose you are the second,” Damian rolled his eyes.  
  
     “ _Cain?_ ” All five occupants of the room questioned. Drake was the first to recover with a “No wait, don’t tell us! You’ve already told us too much about the future!”  
  
     “Is anyone else still hung up on the whole ‘Drug Lord’ bit?” Todd looked around. Damian waved it off.  
  
     “Better than Grayson’s cover as a male stripper,” He gave a pointed look towards Dick, who was both blushingly amused and appalled at the very idea. Artemis let go of his shirt, giving him a weird look.  
  
     “Well, I mean, he was voted best-” Drake began to say, but he too began blushing, unable to finish that sentence.  
  
     “The worst part is that I found out about his cover of being a male stripper by accident. It was a very traumatizing event. Bruce was there as well,” Damian had to fight the urge to call him father. The very fact that Bruce had found out seemed to make the whole embarrassment worse. Good. It’d gotten the topic of Jason becoming a drug lord off the table.  
  
     An awkward silence filled the room.   
  
     Damian sighed. He always ruined conversations, didn’t he. With a huff, he turned around. “I’m going to go train,” He stated. Nobody said anything, so off he went. Down the corridors he’d never actually been to, but had read the schematics enough times he hadn’t had the need to get directions to anything.  
     Punching bags seemed especially proficient in working out bad feelings. Especially when they were human shaped dummies, and not actual bags. He switched which hand he punched with every time. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right…  
  
     Sweat began to form at the back of his neck, and his hairline, but he kept going. Why was he so _stupid_? He shouldn’t have said any of that. Shouldn’t have said anything about the bet, shouldn’t have said anything about Todd becoming a drug lord, or mentioning Cain, or Brown, or the fact that he didn’t get along with half his siblings…  
  
     Damian barely even noticed when the door open. He’d registered the fact, but it didn’t click in his mind that _someone_ would have _opened_ the door for some reason. Not that he cared. He just kept punching.  
  
     Of course it was Todd. Who else would it be? “Damian…?” His voice sounded unsure, quiet. “Do I… Why? Why do I do that? Even if it’s just for undercover and-”  
  
     “Joker,” Damian stopped punching. “You did it to get Black Mask to become desperate enough to draw out the Joker, who was…” Your murderer. He couldn’t just tell him that kind of thing. He also couldn’t tell him that he had been mad at Bruce, or that he killed people in the future. Instead, he shook his head.  
  
     “You can’t tell me all of it, huh,” Jason seemed to understand that much, at least. Damian nodded slowly. Damian thought about just how different this Jason was to the one in the future. Did… if he changed the future, would Todd be… happier? Probably, but at the same time, Drake may not have ever come to take the mantle of Robin, and as much as he loathed him, he had to admit that it would be very different without him.  
  
     Damian’s mind was warring with him. On one hand, Jason was _right there_ , and he could warn him about Ethiopia, about Sheila Haywood, about the Joker. On the other hand, it could screw up the timeline, irreversibly.  
  
     Plus, Damian knew that Jason had killed several people, most of which would have gone on to kill more. Still, seeing this Jason, now, and knowing what he would eventually grow up to become…  
  
     “Have you ever… killed anyone before?” Damian asked, looking down.  
  
     “No, why?” Todd widened his eyes.  
  
     “I…” Have. Why was this so hard. “I was… my mother…” Tears rolled down his cheeks once again. Why was he crying so much? Jason did the unexpected and pulled him into a tight hug.  
  
     “Hey, Damian, it’s okay, alright?” Jason whispered. “You’re my little brother, and that means that I have to love you no matter what.”  
  
     “I’ve killed… so many people,” Damian muttered. “And… and it’s so hard to prove yourself after that… and nobody trusts me with anything…”  
  
     “Well, obviously somebody trusted you to be Robin,” Todd gave him a sincere smile. “Besides, you haven’t killed anybody since, right? That has to count for something.”  
  
     Damian nodded, but he wasn’t so sure.  
  
     Just because he hadn’t killed anyone in a while didn’t mean he wasn’t still capable. And now that he had something to lose, the thought scared him. It was probably the only true fear he had.


	6. Reports

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick's stuck writing up a mission report.

     Dick rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was back at the manor, without any of the other weird apparent future Robins. He was absolutely exhausted, but this case report was almost finished anyways.  
  
     There was a half-eaten sandwich sitting on the tray that Bruce had barely even touched. The Batmobile was still gone, along with its driver. Dick scrunched his face, trying to decide if eating the sandwich that had touched Bruce’s mouth would be worth it.  
  
     Alfred was asleep, and Dick was hungry, so eating the rest of Bruce’s sandwich it was. It was dry from lack of mayo or mustard. Just like Bruce’s jokes.  
  
     The bleary screen in front of him was starting to make his eyes hurt. The clock read midnight, and he had school in the morning…  
  
     Dick was almost finished with the stupid report anyways. It shouldn’t take him over fifteen minutes. He typed another three sentences. Were any of the other Robins better at reports than he was?  
  
     Shaking his head, he went back to typing. It didn’t matter if any of the other Robins were better at reports, they hadn’t been there to witness it, and therefore couldn’t write the report. Besides, he doubted Bruce wouldn’t be able to tell if someone else had written the report.  
  
     By one in the morning, the soft hum of the Batmobile roared back in. Batman jumped out, pulling off the cowl almost immediately to reveal the so-called handsome face of Bruce Wayne. His hair was sweaty and sticking out in weird angles as he raised an eyebrow at Dick.  
  
     “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He asked, pulling his gloves off. Dick sighed, letting out a long breath of air.  
  
     “I’m not finished with the report yet,” Dick had only gotten another six sentences in the last hour.  
  
     “Go get some sleep, you can finish it after school before going to Mt. Justice,” Bruce walked towards where the cave’s shower systems were. Dick groaned, sliding out of the chair and marching up the stairs just as he heard the shower turn on.  
  
     He did have to admit, though, that he was indeed tired. His head hit the pillow, and he almost immediately was asleep. He just really hoped he got that report finished quickly in the morning. Wally and him had plans.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short, but hopefully the next one will be a bit bigger. 
> 
> Until next time! :)


	7. Tim, Meet Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>      “You stole my wallet?” Dick stared at him, incredulous. Jason shrugged, not bothering to say anything else as he walked out of the room. Dick turned his stare and look of disbelief to Wally before flipping through it. “Unbelievable,” He took out a slip of paper with an I.O.U. scribbled onto it in okayish handwriting.

     “West!” The shout rang throughout the mountain. Wally snickered as Damian came out the room covered in yellow paint. Dick high-fived him, laughing as well. “You were in on it too?”  
  
     The words were directed to Dick. They sounded deflated, and Dick suddenly stopped laughing. The second Damian’s eyes had landed on Dick, he’d gone from being angry to looking hurt. It almost made Wally feel bad. Almost.  
  
     “Hey guys,” Jason waltzed into the room, a huge grin breaking out when he caught sight of the paint-covered kid. He too stopped laughing once he really got a good look at Damian’s face. “You okay, Dami?”  
  
     “Don’t call me Dami!” Damian erupted. Wally watched him duck back into the room, the door locking behind him. A few seconds later, the shower turned on.  
  
     “Ouch,” Jason noted.  
  
     “Yeah, did you see the way he looked at me?” Dick tilted his head. “I’m pretty sure I accidentally broke some sort of pact or something future-me made.”  
  
     “Hey, you haven’t made the pact yet,” Jason pointed out, pulling out Dick’s wallet and handing it back to him.  
  
     “You stole my wallet?” Dick stared at him, incredulous. Jason shrugged, not bothering to say anything else as he walked out of the room. Dick turned his stare and look of disbelief to Wally before flipping through it. “Unbelievable,” He took out a slip of paper with an I.O.U. scribbled onto it in okayish handwriting.  
  
     “What are the chances that he’ll wait until he gets back to his own time to pay you back?” Wally raised an eyebrow, trying his best not to seem as amused by this as he was.  
  
     “Almost certain,” Dick growled. Wally watched as he stalked off towards his room that he kept for emergencies at the mountain.  
  
     “Well that’s incredibly _whelming _,” Wally muttered, left alone in the hallway. Or so he thought, before a small Tim came in.__  
  
     “Hello, Wally,” Tim dipped his head in greeting, yawning loudly.  
  
     “What? Forget your morning coffee?” Wally joked, but Tim just stared at him blankly.  
  
     “Coffee?” Tim looked vaguely confused, but he was doing his best to hide it. Wally nodded slowly.  
  
     “Alright, c’mon,” Wally sighed, and Tim followed after him with interest. “Piggyback on my shoulders, it’s faster,” Wally wasn’t thinking about how he was technically breaking Batman’s rules, but there was also the fact that it was also just Tim. He could deal with just Tim if it came down to it.  
  
     At least, he hoped he could.  
  
     Besides, they were just going out for coffee, it wasn’t like they were going too far anyways. So, when Tim hesitantly clambered onto Wally’s back, Wally told him to hold on tight and took off.  
  
     They reached the local coffee shop in seconds. Wally realized, probably a bit too late, that they were both still in their suits. Tim looked enough like the other Robin that nobody would think anything of it other than the fact that there were superheroes in the coffee shop, though, so he supposed it was alright.  
  
     “Two cappuccinos,” Wally asked, giving the woman at the register a cheesy smile.  
  
     “Uh… coming… coming right up,” The woman was staring at them most of the time, almost dropping coffee over herself before she realized that she’d need to actually look at where the cups were if she were to pour coffee into them. “Here or to go?” She asked at the last second.  
  
     “Better make it to go,” Wally said when he noticed people were taking out their phones.  
  
     “I think Agent A banned coffee from the house after Jaybird...” He was about to say more, but deliberately cut himself off.  
  
     “What’d Jaybird do?” Wally raised an eyebrow, taking the two cups and handing the woman a crisp twenty, telling her to keep the change as he walked out with Robin.  
  
     Tim shook his head. “It wasn’t Jaybird, it was Batman that got it banned,” He tried to explain. Wally shook his head. It probably didn’t matter anyway.  
  
     Tim took the hot beverage carefully. He raised it to his lips before shooting Wally a look. He sighed, though, and sipped at it. His eyes widened with shock. “Wow, that actually tastes a lot better than expected.”  
  
     “Well what’d you expect it to taste like?” Wally took a sip of his own coffee, looking at Tim with interest.  
  
     “Honestly? I thought it’d taste kind of more like tea,” Tim shrugged, taking another sip.  
  
     “Tea?” Wally blinked.  
  
     “Well, it’s definitely not tea,” Tim chugged the rest of it down within seconds, Wally forced to watch in horror.  
  
     “Robin, you can’t just do that,” Wally’s mouth was agape.  
  
     “Why not?” Tim raised half his mask. Wally let out a long sigh.  
  
     “Let’s just… let’s just start heading back to the mountain, okay?” Wally pinched the bridge of his nose as Tim nodded vigorously.  
  
     “Yeah! I have _got _to tell Dick about this!” Tim began running. If this were Dick, Wally probably would have run ahead then rubbed it in his face that he was slow. However, because this was in fact _not _Dick, he decided to run at a normal, slow, humanish pace. (The -ish being the fact that Tim was fast, and definitely not out of shape.)____  
  
     They arrived at the mountain. The only problem was, they couldn’t get inside.  
  



	8. Tim's Existential Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if it was just the team pulling a prank on us?” Wally asks. Tim looks him in the eye.  
> “What if it wasn’t?”

     “This sucks,” Wally sighed, wiping a gloved hand threw his hair and sipping his coffee. Tim’s not paying attention to him though, choosing instead to focus on trying to open the door. The zetas seem to still be functional, but there isn’t a zeta exit straight from the mountain.  
  
     “How fast can you get us to Gotham?” Tim asks, because that’s the only zeta he can remember the location of. (Well, besides the one in both of the different caves, but that was besides the point.)  
  
     “Pretty fast,” Wally finishes the rest of his coffee. “Why?”  
  
     Tim doesn’t answer, simply clambering onto Wally piggy-back style. It was embarrassing, but it was better than being carried bridal style. “Just go,” Tim sighs, and Wally takes off.  
  
     It takes much longer to get to Gotham than it did to get to the coffee shop, but they arrive much faster than they would have in a plane.  
  
     “You know, in retrospect we probably should’ve changed clothes,” Wally says as they walk the streets. People are taking pictures of them on their cell phones, and wow those are old phones. But then they aren’t old phones because Tim’s in the past. Time travel is so weird.  
  
     “We could try my younger self, but he’s currently nine years old and we probably wouldn’t fit in any of his clothes,” Tim shrugs.  
  
     “Yeah, let’s not weird him out,” Wally bites his lip, rounding the corner.  
  
     “First off, we definitely wouldn’t weird younger me out. I’m nine right now, right? I already know who Batman and Robin are, you too by the way, and I live in Gotham. Time travel is really the least of little me’s worries,” Tim shrugs. “Besides, I checked last night. My parents are in Jamaica, so it’s just me at the house.”  
  
     “They didn’t take you to Jamaica with them?” Wally raises an eyebrow.  
  
     “It’s a business trip,” Tim frowns.  
  
     “Oh,” Wally looks away. “How are we supposed to get to the zetas with all these people watching?”  
  
     “I don’t know. There’s a reason we usually work at night. It’s harder to see a black cape in the dark than it is in daylight,” Tim strokes his chin.  
  
     “I feel like we’re going to get kidnapped,” Wally grumbles.  
  
     “The last person who kidnapped a Robin everyone thought Batman had actually murdered. Now most people are too afraid to try,” Tim supplies as they round a corner.  
  
     “Wait, seriously?” Wally widens his eyes.  
  
     “Actually, that hasn’t happened yet. Forget I said anything. Somebody would absolutely take the opportunity to kidnap Robin without Batman here. Don’t worry though, I’ve got lock picks,” Tim glances into a jewelry shop. No crime sprees going on in there, at least.  
  
     “Somehow that’s not very comforting,” Wally deadpans. Tim climbs up a fire escape, because all the ogling pedestrians are really starting to get on his nerves.  
  
     “We could always pretend we got kidnapped and sent to Gotham if Batman asks,” Tim shrugs.  
  
     “What part of World’s Greatest Detective makes you think he’ll buy that?” Wally sighs, attempting to climb the fire escape himself. He’s not as fast as Robin was, surprisingly, and he almost slips off at one point, but he does make it up. Eventually.  
  
     “It was a joke,” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose.  
  
     “Wasn’t a very funny one,” Wally scrunches up his nose. Tim shrugs, but doesn’t comment. He was _trying _to make funnier jokes. He understood that his current joke-making skill level was… close to non-existent, but still.__  
  
     “We can’t go back to Mount Justice just yet,” Tim states once they reach the rooftops.  
  
     “What?” Wally struggles to climb the wall. “I thought-” Tim watches Wally’s pitiful attempt to swing himself over the ledge backfire as one of his hands loses grip and he grunts with effort. Tim walks over and offers him a hand and pulls Wally up. “I thought we were going straight to the cave?”  
  
     “We need to figure out who locked us out of the cave in the first place. And we don’t want to go to the Batcave just yet in case they’ve taken control of all the zeta beams. I don’t know about you, but I for one would rather not be turned into a pile of dust,” Tim snorts. Wally thinks it over.  
  
     “What if it was just the team pulling a prank on us?” Wally asks. Tim looks him in the eye.  
  
     “What if it wasn’t?”  
  
     Wally sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Where are we going to go while you figure it out? If the zetas are compromised, that makes the Batcave compromised as well, so we can’t go there.”  
  
     Tim thinks it over for a minute. They can’t just waltz around Gotham while trying to figure it out, it’s way too dangerous. Especially since Falcone and Maroni are having a bit of a… power struggle at the moment. Kidnapping an unsuspecting Robin and Kid Flash would seem like a wise idea to most criminals.  
  
     Tim thinks back to what he told Wally upon their first few minutes of being in Gotham. He’d technically been joking, but the more he thought about it, the more it sounded like a plausible idea. Now he’d just have to convince Wally.  
  
     “Little me,” Tim states. He clenches his jaw as he watches wheels begin turning in Wally’s mind.  
  
     “No way,” Wally states almost immediately. Speedster brain = fast wheels, apparently.  
  
     “Hear me out. My parents aren’t home, I live fairly close to Wayne Manor, and I’m like… the least likely person to call the cops on us,” Tim points out. He just really wishes Wally would just say yes. Tim didn’t have the people skills to try and convince him. (Yet, the thought crosses Tim’s mind. He doesn’t have the people skills yet.)  
  
     ((Who is he kidding, he’ll never have the people skills for that.))  
  
     “Fine, but only because I can’t think of a better idea,” Wally deflates. He might not be happy about it, but Tim will take what he can get.  
  
     “Great, you know how to get to Wayne Manor, right?” Tim asks. It’s supposed to be rhetorical, but Tim notices Wally nods anyways. “Okay, so my house is like… a mile before that. I’m not good at directions, but uh… You just turn at the first road before you get to Wayne Manor.”  
  
     “Got it,” Wally mutters half-heartedly. Tim uses his grapple to get both him and Wally down. (It’s embarrassingly awkward, and he’s pretty sure there’s going to be photoshopped pictures online of Kid Flash and Robin hugging it out.)  
  
     They arrive at Tim’s house in record time, and Tim puts in the code after they enter the house so the alarm won’t start blaring at them. Tim leads Wally down to the basement where he knows he’ll find his younger self, probably developing pictures in the darkroom.  
  
     Little Tim, when they find him, does his best not to freak out. Tim watches his younger self begin to breath heavily before he stops breathing altogether. Tim’s about to bring out his well-learned first-aid skills, but, well…  
  
     “You’re not Robin!” Shoots out the kids mouth almost immediately. “Your hair isn’t right, and your pants are more dark green than they are black. And your mask is too pointed. Except, you’re definitely Kid Flash.”  
  
     “Wow,” Wally raises an eyebrow. “He’s the first civilian to realize you’re not, y’know, Robin I, since you’ve been here.”  
  
     “I was right?” Little Tim blinks, his eyes wide and bright blue staring at Big Tim’s mask.  
  
     “I, believe it or not, am you. From the future,” Big Tim holds out a hand. He can tell Little Tim doesn’t believe him, but he shakes his hand anyways.  
  
     “I’m Timothy Drake,” Little Tim introduces himself. He shakes Big Tim’s hand, then goes for Wally’s.  
  
     “I’m Wa-”  
  
     “Wallace West,” Little Tim interrupts, then blushes. “I’m not s’posed to know that. Sorry.”  
  
     “It’s… okay?” Wally looks at Big Tim, who in turn shrugs.  
  
     “Listen, I need to borrow your computer for a few hours, is that okay?” Big Tim asks. Little Tim gives him a skeptical glare, though. “I’ll let you watch everything I do?”  
  
     That’s enough to get Little Tim to completely agree to get Big Tim and Wally anything they need. Within five minutes, they’re sitting on the kitchen table, three laptops spread across it.  
  
     When Wally asks why Tim has three personal laptops, Tim’s immediate reply is that his parents buy Wayne Tech to try and get on ‘Brucie Wayne’s’ good side. Tim, on the other hand, knows for a fact that it’s not really affecting Bruce in any way whatsoever, but he also knows that he gets new, top-of-the-line laptops out of it.  
  
     Big Tim immediately hacks into the Batcomputer’s files. Little Tim watches him do it with amazement. Should Big Tim be giving his younger self access to some of the most important information in the entire world? Probably not. Does he care? Not really. Is he doing it anyways? Absolutely.  
  
     The files on the zeta beams are confusing at best. They shouldn’t be accessible from beyond the Justice League, but if Tim can hack the Batcave from a simple laptop, then it’s not that big of a stretch to think that someone else can do it too. He’ll add ‘upgrading the Batcomputer security’ to his mental list of things he needs to do when he gets home. Right under ‘Eat chili dogs for Jason.’  
  
     There’s a pang in Big Tim’s chest as it suddenly hits him that when he gets home, he won’t be able to talk to Jason ever again. He stops typing and gets up to stare out the window at Wayne Manor. Wally and Little Tim stare at him in confusion.  
  
     “I’ll be back, I need to get some fresh air,” Big Tim sighs, heading out the door. He’s wearing his father’s shirt and his mother’s pants. Both are a bit loose on him as he walks across the back lawn. His mother’s pants gain some grass stains from Tim constantly stepping on them with his bare feet, but she’ll probably never even wear these pants again anyways, so he doesn’t think she’ll mind.  
  
     Tim had known this whole time that Jason was going to die inevitably, so why was it all crashing down on him all of the sudden? Was this how Bruce felt? No, Bruce probably didn’t feel exactly like Tim did, because Bruce wasn’t standing right next to his deceased son and unable to tell him he’d die within the next year of his life. Plus, Jason was Bruce’s son, and Tim wouldn’t ever be able to compare with that.  
  
     Everything felt awful, and Tim wanted to tell… to tell someone, but who would he talk to about this? Definitely not Bruce, for two reasons. One, Bruce had been known to act on future knowledge. Two, Bruce wouldn’t be able to really enjoy having Jason around because he’d be so focused on the fact that he’d be gone at some point and he’d try to distance himself from him.  
  
     Just like Tim had been doing this entire time.  
  
     With fists clenched, Tim took the usual route he took to get to Wayne Manor, walking through the trees that separated the Drake Estate from the Wayne Estate.  
  
     The path was both familiar and different, just like everything in the stupid past. It was becoming increasingly annoying. Dick and Bruce were still closer than could be, with no feeble arguments driving them apart, and no death of the second Robin giving them a crappy patch job of uncomfortable silence. It wasn’t bad, honestly, just… not what Tim was used to.  
  
     Then there was the supposed fourth Robin of the group, Damian. Tim wasn’t sure what to make of the kid. He always seemed to tense whenever Tim began to speak in any way. There was also the fact that he didn’t seem the least bit unnerved by Jason being in the same room. Was he just not as affected by Jason’s death as Tim had been? It would make sense if Damian were from a few years past Tim and had a Bruce who had already gotten through the worst of his grief.  
  
     Tim reached the edge of Bruce’s property. Part of him ached to walk up to the door and have tea with Alfred, but he knew he couldn’t. Not right now. He stared at the Manor, standing tall all the way across the lawn. He turned back.  
  
     Tim could handle it. He’d proved he could handle it. He’d gone through the training, he’d passed every test Bruce threw at him. He could handle keeping every secret to himself. He’d done it for years with Batman and Robin’s identities, along with the rest of the League’s identities. He’d proved it when his parents dragged him along to any parties that took place in Gotham, and he pretended that his parents didn’t leave him alone 340 days a year. He’d proved it when he’d come up with his alias of Alvin Draper. Tim could keep a secret.  
  
     “You’re back,” Little Tim acknowledged. There wasn’t a hint of excitement in his voice, simply him stating the fact.  
  
     “You were one serious kid,” Wally feels the need to point out. Tim stares at him blankly as he sits back down at the small circle of computers he has set up on the table.  
  
     “Wally, if you want to be helpful, you can go pick up uh… whatever options there are for fast food? You pick,” Tim shrugs as he goes quickly narrows through which villains would have the brains to lock out Tim and Wally from the tower.  
  
     “Pizza okay?” Internally, Tim’s wondering if that’s actually considered fast food. Externally, he shrugs as he throws Killer Croc into the reject pile.  
  
     That leaves Big Tim with about twenty minutes before he gets back. He speed works, with Little Tim either breathing down his neck or asking a question every once and awhile.  
  
     “What about Lex Luthor?” Little Tim suggests.  
  
     “Resources? Maybe. However, I doubt it. If it’d been Superboy stuck outside the tower, maybe, but… Well, let’s just say Luthor doesn’t have much use for Kid Flash and Robin,” Big Tim sighs.  
  
     “Ra’s Al Ghul?” Little Tim frowns. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”  
  
     “Not many people have. He runs the League of Assassins. He’s a bit more of a suspect than Luthor. He’s got a creepy fixation on Bruce, and he’d be one to seize the opportunity to get Robin separated from everyone else. He also wouldn’t see Wally as much of an obstacle and-”  
  
     “Not quite correct,” A female voice cuts Tim off, and the atmosphere quickly becomes cold. Tim turns around in time to watch the woman slam an elbow into his head.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time some plot actually started taking place, y'know?


	9. Team Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what’s the plan?” Jason asks. Dick and Damian both gain serious expressions.

      _“Where are they?” _Jason watches through the camera Tim had helped him set up on Batman’s ear tip. Dick and Damian were huddled up next to him, Dick being the glue in the center of the sandwich practically forcing the three boys to become inseparable. Under Batman’s orders, of course, the goodie-two-shoes.__  
  
      _”We don’t know,” _Superman sighs, rubbing a hand through his too-perfect hair. Jason sees straight through his tough-guy persona into his farmboy heart, though. He doesn’t have the right attitude to have been raised in the city. (Not that there was anything inherently _wrong _with being from a farm, it was just… different.)____  
  
      _”What I don’t understand is how they managed to trace Kid and Rob back to Drake Manor,” _Flash frowns on the screen. The three Robins watch as he thrums his fingers across the table in definite nervousness.__  
  
     Wonder Woman mutters something in the corner of the screen, and because these are three very talented young vigilanties, they’re able to discern that she’s saying something along the lines of “This is why I never had sidekicks.” At this point, it’s seeming like a great point. Damian, however, seems to be trying to hold back his ‘I know something you don’t’ smile that Dick’s taken notice of. Of course Dick took notice of it. Then he spread the news on to Jason, who really only used this power for evil.  
  
     There’s more things going on, but the gist of it includes the League being clueless to where both the missing boys were and who took them. Jason sighs, turning the small television off. Dick stands up, stretching almost immediately. (If there was one thing Jason knew for sure about Dick, it’s that he hates sitting still for too long.)  
  
     “So, what’s the plan?” Jason asks. Dick and Damian both gain serious expressions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! I'll make the next chapter come out sooner to compensate ^-^


	10. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>      “Where are we?” Little Tim asks next.  
>   
>      “As far as I can tell? A beach. Beyond that, no idea,” Tim shrugs.

     Tim knows he’s in deep when he wakes up to find himself handcuffed to his younger self. He was working on being around his younger self being less weird. His current predicament, however, he was very much _not _used to.__  
  
     “You’re awake,” The same female voice Tim can vaguely remember, though it’s a bit foggy, purrs from the other side of the room.  
  
     “Who are you?” Tim glares at where he anticipates the voice is coming from. He can’t get a good enough look, though. It’s too dark, and whoever this woman is, she’s good at hiding in the shadows.  
  
     “That would defeat the whole purpose now, wouldn't it?” The woman mocks, her voice suddenly from behind Tim. It sends chills down his spine. He’s trained to be able to hear Batman’s footsteps. This person shouldn’t be able to sneak up on him like this.  
  
     There’s a wisp of air and there’s the slight sound of a leap. Tim really hopes that the woman is actually gone and not lulling the hero into a false sense of security.  
  
     It is at this moment that Tim realizes what his biggest problem is at the moment. He’s not wearing the suit anymore, nor does he have his mask. First, Bruce was going to kill him for letting his secret identity out, and second, they didn’t have a good way of escape without Tim’s tools. (At least Tim was pretty sure he was still wearing the same underwear under the… nightgown thing? It was a small comfort, but a comfort all the same.)  
  
     Little Tim woke up around ten minutes later. “Robin?” He called out.  
  
     “Right here,” Tim states boredly. He’s been trying to think up a plan for how they could get out. Each one ended up with either Little Tim or Tim dead in the end, because there was no way someone could have orchestrated this kind of kidnapping without knocking every easy way out of the water. Obviously.  
  
     Little Tim, for his part, is struggling against the binds their in. It’s not going to do much good, though. Tim just really hopes that Little Tim isn’t badly hurt in any way. It would be bad for the both of them.  
  
     “Where are we?” Little Tim asks next.  
  
     “As far as I can tell? A beach. Beyond that, no idea,” Tim shrugs. He’s currently more worried about Wally. Was he taken too, or was he left at Drake manor?  
  
     Tim shakes his head. He’s not going to think about that right now. They aren’t going to be stuck there for too much longer, anyways. Batman will find them. And the Robins. All three of them. Maybe. If they could get along long enough to accomplish the task.  
  
     Nevermind, Tim and Little Tim were doomed.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's another short chapter. Hopefully the next one will be longer! Until next time- :)


	11. Driving the Batplane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's too much for a simple chapter summary to cover it all...

    “I get to drive the Batplane,” Jason shoves his way to the steering wheel at the front. Dick crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Jason with a heated glare. 

    “How come you get to drive?” Damian watched as Dick angrily plopped into one of the passenger seats, complaining the whole way through putting his seatbelt. 

    “ _ I’m _ older,” Jason smirks, pride flowing in the statement. Damian climbs into the seat next to Dick just in time to see the archer poke her head in their mode of transportation. 

    “What are you doing here?” Damian sneers, narrowing his eyes at the girl. Unperturbed, Artemis stubbornly sits down on the seat on the other side of Dick. 

    “I’m coming with you,” Artemis leans into the chair, daring Jason to try and tell her otherwise. Jason, the traitor, simply shrugs and begins the take-off process. 

    “Besides the fact that I’m older, we can’t trust Dick to drive. He drove the Batmobile  _ once  _ and immediately crashed it,” Jason informs, gently easing the plane into flight. 

    “It was foggy and that plastic bag came out of  _ nowhere _ ,” Dick clenches his jaw, frowning. 

    “Wait, Bruce let you drive  _ twice _ ? And you crashed it  _ both _ times?” Jason turns his head to look at him in shock. 

    “Eyes on the road, Todd!” Damian grasps his seatbelt for dear life. 

    “This is a plane!” Jason shouts, but he turns to face his flight path nonetheless. Artemis raises an eyebrow as Jason cranks up the speed. “Tim’s house, here we come…”

    They searched the house for clues. Dick had seemed torn between being flattered and uncomfortable when he and Artemis stumbled upon Tim’s Dark Room™ and found pictures of Robin dating back to Dick’s first days in the leotard. Jason had been the one to find a laptop that older Tim must have synced up to the Batcave. (At least, he  _ hoped  _ it had been older Tim who’d done it.) 

     Damian, for his part, was in Little Tim’s room complaining about how his Tim’s room was never this clean, and then pointedly insulting Little Tim’s items. (Apparently, from the loud cursing Jason had heard all the way in the kitchen, Little Tim had Batman and Robin underwear.) 

    ” _ All clear down here,” _ Dick calls over their comm link. 

    “ _ Affirmative _ ,” Damian says.  _ ”Meet at the plane?” _

    ” _ Wait _ ,” Jason picks a crumpled piece of paper up off the ground.  _ ”I think I found something.” _

    They meet at the plane anyways, and Jason shows the rest of the group his find. It’s written in the sloppy handwriting of a child, so probably Little Tim. “Tracker Code: 009OLDRAK3-T1M-01000111-01101111-01110100-01101000-01100001-01101101”

    “How would Little Tim know that?” Artemis frowns. 

    “Maybe the other Tim recited it and Little Tim just wrote it down?” Dick suggests, shrugging. “Either way, I’ll try to get the tracker online back at the cave.”

    “Hey, we’re in Gotham anyways, why don’t we show Arty here the  _ Bat _ cave?” Jason nudges Artemis, who isn’t too mad. He  _ did _ just suggest that she might be able to see the Batcave, after all. (There’s no doubt that, had that not been the case, she could have pulverized Jason.)

    “I’m driving the Batplane,” Damian announces. Three collective screams of ‘Damian, NO!’ are heard behind him. He pauses on the steps. “I know how. Unlike  _ someone _ .”

    “Jeez, you stop paying attention behind the wheel  _ one _ time and suddenly you’re labeled for life,” Jason rolls his eyes. 

    “Well we can all agree Grayson isn’t driving it,” Damian frowns, crossing his arms. “And I doubt Crock knows how.” 

    “You fly, we’ll all walk,” Dick shakes his head. He and Jason both begin heading towards the stretch of woods that separates Drake and Wayne Manors. Artemis is confused for a moment before she begins following after the two older boys. 

    “Tt,” Damian gets into the Batplane. Bruce may not have ever let him fly the Batplane, but it couldn’t be much harder than one of the League of Assassin’s helicopters.

    Meanwhile, Jason has rung the doorbell. Artemis and Dick are having a conversation while they walk and being slow. (They’re  _ barely _ out of the woods.)

    Alfred opens the door. “I’m afraid Master Richard isn’t here today,” He states, about to close the door. 

    Jason’s almost hurt, but he remembers the fact that he’s in the past and that Alfred doesn’t know who he is. “Actually, Master  _ Dick  _ is right over there,” Jason points to where Dick and Artemis are slowly but surely making their way towards the door.  _ Very  _ slowly, but still surely. 

    “I see,” Alfred steps aside, allowing him in. Jason, out of habit, hangs up the hoodie he’d been wearing on the coat rack. Wayne Manor is never cold in temperature. (Not that it isn’t cold in other ways.)

    “I’m Jason Todd,” He adds, holding out a hand, which Alfred shakes with a steady arm. 

    Dick and Artemis  _ finally _ make it to the door, someone ringing the doorbell. Alfred opens the door once again, allowing the two in. Artemis looks like she’d recently almost died of laughter. Considering Dick was within her proximity, that’s probably a true assessment. Who doesn’t laugh at Goldie and his questionable life choices?

    There’s a faint crashing sound, and the color drains from both Jason and Dick’s faces. “Damian!” “The Batplane!” The two of them chorus out simultaneously, rushing for the study. Dick puts the code into the clock (10:48) and the two skyrocket down the stairs. Damian is climbing out of the plain, cursing profusely. 

    The plane looks perfectly fine so what-  _ THE DINOSAUR _ .

    “What did you do to Rex!” Jason yells, rushing to his favorite reading spot in the cave. It’s been toppled, somehow. Damian frowns. 

    “I was attempting to see through the Direct Vision window and I slipped,” Damian states. “Rex will be fine, you simply have to put him right-side up again. If Batman got him  _ into _ the cave in the first place, it should be easy. 

    Dick is staring at the damage from the stairs. “Bruce is gonna kill me,” He groans, facepalming. 

    “That is not likely, he has a no-kill code. It is more probable that he will maim you,” Damian sticks his nose in the air. 

    “Like that’s any better,” Jason rolls his eyes. 

    Artemis walks in fifteen minutes later to see Dick sobbing into his gloves, Damian throwing training dummies at Jason while Jason attempts to lift Rex back on his own. He doesn’t even get it to budge.

    Alfred, the glue to this household that none of the bats would be able to live without, bless him, walks past both Artemis and Dick and pats Jason on the shoulder. (Damian ceases throwing dummies in their direction; he doesn’t want to hit Alfred by accident.) 

    “How do you guys afford all of this?” Artemis looks around the room. 

    “Blood money,” Jason jokes. Alfred flicks him on the ear, and everyone stifles laughs as Jason looks towards the butler with a look of betrayal. 

    “Bruce is the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, he makes a  _ lot _ of money,” Dick sighs. “I know, I know, it’s overwhelming but-”

    “Yeah, I’m over it,” Artemis shrugs. 

    “Already?” Dick looks at her, surprise written across his face. 

    “It’s even worse in my time period,” Damian sighs. “There’s more suits. A lot more suits. And there’s dirty coffee mugs everywhere.” 

    Alfred looks offended by the very thought. “You’ve begun to force Drake into washing his own coffee mugs. Generally he reuses them until there’s mold. It’s disgusting,” Damian supplies for the butler’s benefit. 

    “I didn’t know Tim drank coffee,” Dick frowns. Damian begins laughing. He then realizes that Dick isn’t kidding. 

    “Drake drinks more coffee than should be humanly possible, especially since he’s missing his spleen,  _ and _ the fact that he adds energy drinks to the mix…” Damian shudders. “I’m surprised he hasn’t died of heart failure.”

    “Speaking of Tim, shouldn’t we be working on that tracker?” Jason crosses his arms. 

    “Agreed. The more time we waste, well, the worse it could be,” Artemis and Dick walk down the stairs. Jason slides into the computer, pulling up the tracker. 

    “What’s the code again?” Jason asks, tilting his head to the side. Dick recites it, and Jason enters it in. ‘Access Denied’ blares across the screen bright red letters. 

    “I got this,” Dick pushes him aside, typing furiously across the keyboard. Within seconds it switches to ‘Access Granted.’ Dick beams a smile towards Jason, who glares. 

    “I could’ve done that,” He adds, sliding the chair back towards the group.  

    “Great news! I found them! Bad news! They’re in Seattle,” Dick steps away from the computer. He seemed annoyingly proud of himself. 

    “I’m driving,” Damian instantly calls, heading towards the plane. 

    “You will do no such thing Master Wayne,” Alfred says from the other end of the cave. Damian stops in his tracks, his shoulders tensing. He turns back towards Alfred slowly. 

    “How…?” He seems at a loss for words, his face almost slack with shock. 

    “You’re the spitting image of your father at that age,” Alfred scoffs. He then gives Damian another once over. “I can even take a guess at who your mother is,” He adds. The distaste in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. 

    None of the others seem overly surprised either, other than Artemis. Then again, Artemis hadn’t seen photos of a young Bruce Wayne. 

    “You all knew?” Damian raises an eyebrow. 

    “Dude. You’re the only one who refused to tell us your last name,” Jason points out. Dick nods in agreement. “Can’t speak for Tim though. Might be a shock to  _ his _ system.”

    “Oh! Is his mom Catwoman?” Dick asks Alfred. 

    “No!” Damian shouts out, offended at the very idea. 

    “Aw man,” Dick forks over a ten dollar bill to Jason. 

    “Score!” Jason pumps his fist in the air, tucking the money into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m buying poptarts with this, and Alfred can’t stop me!” 

    Alfred raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?” 

    “Doesn’t matter. Why can’t I drive?” Damian pouts, crossing his arms. 

    “Master Bruce will be here in five minutes, and I can doubtlessly say you aren’t going anywhere until  _ after  _ dinner,” Alfred crosses his arms. 

    Artemis leaned over towards Dick. “Is it always like this?” 

    “No, usually it’s just me, Alfred, and Bruce,” Dick whispers back.

    “But Alfred! What about Tim!” Jason steps forwards, his mouth agape. “We’re just going to gamble his life for the sake of, what, family dinner?” 

    “I know for a fact none neither Master Dick nor Master Bruce have eaten a proper meal in four days, and I’m assuming that you haven’t either,” Alfred sends a glare towards Dick, who looks down guiltily. 

    “I ate!” Jason complains. “Didn’t everybody else?”

    “No,” Artemis grumbles. 

    “I was preoccupied,” Damian frowns. 

    “But. But. I made chili dogs two nights ago!” Jason shouts. He throws his hands up into the air when Damian gives him a blank yet judging look and Dick has a sheepish look across his face. “This family. So unappreciative!” 

    Dick is about to speak when the roar of the Batmobile cuts him off. Batman himself leaps out of the car once it’s stopped, landing perfectly. He looks over the group gathered in the cave. “Hello Artemis, I didn’t realize you’d be coming to the cave,” There was a glare sent Dick’s way. 

    “I didn’t realize  _ any  _ of them were coming to the cave, if it makes you feel better,” Alfred says dryly, heading towards the stairs. “I expect you all to be upstairs in exactly two hours, wearing appropriate clothing.”

    “Bruce, we might need to go shopping again,” Dick groans. Alfred’s idea of appropriate clothing, when there were guests over at least, included clothes that weren’t meant for combat. The only one wearing jeans was Jason, and even then it was because he’d been coerced into putting them over his booty shorts. 

    “I’ll go get the minivan,” Bruce groans, heading towards the changing rooms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


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